#*reqs

But then Summer makes it worse, when three days later she says, “Oh, come on, Kip. Even Dad doesn’t like Hayate! Right, Dad?”

And the thing is, if he’d had a chance to rehearse it, Drew could have lied. He could have chastised their daughter for making such a claim and assured Kipper that of course he likes Hayate, Hayate is as good as family, if he likes Hayate like that, then he should follow his heart and ignore his sister’s teasing, of course.

But that’s not what happened. So, instead, his lips twitch up in an amusement he can’t quite hide, even as May sees him try to swallow it down two seconds later. And Kipper, sweet, sensitive Kipper—he sees it immediately. And he shouts, “Don’t you side with her! That’s so unfair!”

In an effort to quell him, May hurriedly reaches across the table to grasp his hand in hers. “We’re not siding with anyone, Kip. I don’t think this is really something we can take sides on, anyway…”

“Yeah,” Felicity chimes in. “You’re both being idiots.”

“Felicity,” May hisses, and they shrug. There is a decided lack of remorse in the thin-lipped smile they shoot her way.

“There are sides, though,” Summer points out. “All I’m trying to say is that you can do better than Hayate. How does that make me the bad guy for looking out for you?”

Kipper’s face goes red. As if burned, he snatches his hand away from May’s. “I can look out for myself.”

And with that, he rises from the table and storms off. It’s only the inevitable sound of his bedroom door slamming that snaps May out of her stupor in order to whirl on Summer and ask, “Do you really need to press his buttons so much?”

“I’m not the bad guy here!” she protests. “Do you really want Kip to be head over heels for some guy who won’t even give him the time of day forever? He should just move on already. Like, what about that guy from Verdanturf at the Grand Festival? He was cool, and he was definitely crushing on Kip!”

Finally, Drew seems to find it in himself to give Summer his best “disappointed dad” look, which, in May’s opinion, has never been much of a strong suit of his anyway. Still, she drops her gaze, looking chastened, when he points out, “If he could just choose who he had feelings for, I’m sure he would’ve chosen differently by now. Could you help having feelings for Lemon?”

“That’s different,” Summer mutters. “I’m just trying to help him.”

“I don’t think he sees it that way, though,” May points out. “I think you owe him an apology.”

A sigh, and then, begrudgingly, “Fine.”

Though it’s clear she is dragging her feet, Summer rises from the table and goes to follow her brother up the stairs to his bedroom. In her absence, her sibling gestures to the empty spaces at the table and complains, “How come Kip and Lime get to leave their dishes on the table?”

Despite herself, May’s lips twitch at that. She nudges Drew with her elbow, and jokes, “At least we know we have one kid who’s not gonna lose sight of the important things in life, right?”

“What important things? Dinner?” He smirks. “Must be your influence.”

“And the embarrassing crushes must be yours, right?”

His expression falls with a despairing groan. To Felicity, he says, “Promise us that when you get old enough to go on your own journey you’re not going to bring romantic drama home every time you visit.”

They scrunch up their nose at that. “Yeah, no thanks. Can I be excused now? I have to go write in my journal about what a traumatizing experience this was.”

“Go ahead,” May tells them. “Just make sure you clear your plate.”

They let out a long-suffering sigh at that—clearly, someone thought that just because their siblings left the table without cleaning up, they would be exempt today, too—but does as she asks. It’s only once they’ve left the kitchen that May lets herself sink back in her seat and let out the sigh of frustration that’s been brimming behind her lips since this whole thing started.

A hand on her arm has her turning to face Drew, who offers her a soft smile. It’s so easy to return it, even with the emotional exhaustion weighing down her limbs.

“He’ll be okay,” he tells her. “Believe me. I had a crush on someone who was pretty oblivious to my feelings once, too. It worked out eventually.”

A puff of laughter slips between her lips. “Who, me? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much what you sounded like all the time back then.”

She shoves her elbow against his side, making him shift away from her with a grin. At last, he rises to begin clearing off the table, leaning down to press a chaste kiss against her cheek as he reaches over to grab her plate. Her faux irritation dissolves in the wake of a pleased smile.